Back On The Road

They say that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. But, in my case, some will probably say, it's also made me dumber.

Three years ago today I almost died. I’ll never know how close I came to shuffling off, but you would think that surviving a high speed accident, on a motorbike, on the M1, on a Bank Holiday Monday would definitely count as a “close shave”.*

You would have also thought that an incident like that and the following year’s worth of recuperation, setbacks and slow recovery would have taught me a lesson.
“I’m never riding again, it’s just not worth it.” A rational response and for a while I believed I meant it. But as the memories faded and my wounds healed, the words started to ring a little hollow.

Sure, at first, I didn’t really think I would get back on a bike, but I couldn’t deny that they still held a massive fascination for me and that a big part of the old me felt like it was absent.

But until recently a new life outside London, my fantastic girlfriend, a great new job and most significantly a beautiful new family member had served to distract me from what I was missing.

Whilst I can’t really identify a specific time when I knew I would get back on a bike, for a number of reasons - both practical and emotional - it became a concrete desire over the last couple of months. A few weeks of intensive Internet research, the obligatory magazine purchases, some serious discussions, soul searching and deep thinking led me to make a decision. One that I am determined I am not going to regret.

So now, after a very fine bank holiday weekend, there’s a shiny, new, Yamaha XJ6N sitting in the front garden. And with 200 miles on the clock after 3 great days of short, local rides, it's almost fully run-in. Tomorrow is the first commute, so we'll have to see what that throws at me, but whatever, I'm really looking forward to it. Roll on 6.30am!

That's me. Back to biking!